


Stretching Wistful Hands

by ladysockalot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-08
Updated: 2010-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysockalot/pseuds/ladysockalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin had a great destiny with Arthur but he also had the great responsibility of fatherhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stretching Wistful Hands

Merlin doesn't remember how old he was when he met Freya. All he knew was that they were young and in love. It was a first love, passionate and yet sweet and stumbling at the same time. Since he'd saved her from the sorceress's curse Freya had known who he really was and that was intoxicating.

He would magic every candle in the house alight just so he could the see the light reflected in her smile. Sometimes he would conjure small flowers and put them in her hair. She would pluck one out and put it in his neckerchief. Once he conjured a strawberry and was delighted when Freya said it was best she'd ever tasted.

With no family of her own it was natural Freya came to live with Merlin and his mother. Hunith took an immediate liking to her, Freya became the daughter she'd never had. Even Will approved of her.

“You should take care of that one, Merlin,” he said.

“I will.”

Over the next few months the whole of Ealdor warmed to her. They didn't know anything of her past and saw only a sweet, slightly shy girl who was eager to help. They didn't know about the nights when she woke up screaming and Merlin had to hold her to stop the nightmares.

It was Freya in the end who had to initiate intimate contact. Merlin was scared of hurting her, fumbling around as he did. Eventually with Merlin's compassion and Freya's patience and strength of character they managed it. They consummated things one night in Will's house, Will graciously staying out for the night. Afterwards they held each other and cried.

That Freya was with child was unexpected. Hunith did point out it was a consequence of love to sometimes be faced with trials. Yet the nine months of the pregnancy were the happiest of their lives. Merlin used magic to make Freya comfortable, turning sacks of straw into pillows and bringing her flowers and fruit. They both revelled in the knowledge of a new life, a fresh start, a sign of a happy future.

The child was a boy, strong and hearty. They named him Wyllt. Will very much approved and drank so much he fell asleep on Hunith's table.

The birth hadn't been easy but the days afterwards were worse. Freya became sick and weak, her life simply draining before Merlin's eyes. At Hunith's behest he went to Camelot to fetch Gaius, the best physician in the land and close family. The journey there and back took days. By the time Merlin returned with Gaius there was nothing anyone could do.

Freya died in Merlin's arms the night of his return. He took to her the lake they had visited when they had first met. After he had saved her they had thrown their clothes off and danced in the water with joy. With sorrow Merlin put Freya to rest there.

Despite his grief he had son and responsibilities. Ealdor offered little opportunity as the village was small and a bad harvest meant there wasn't enough food to go around. The young, the old and the weak would suffer. Gaius suggested Merlin return to Camelot with him as his apprentice. There he could earn money to support his mother and son. Eventually, after spending the day thinking about it by the side of the lake, talking to Freya and sure she could hear him, Merlin agreed.

Will was angry. He felt betrayed and outraged on Wyllt's behalf. He pointed out Merlin's kind were not welcome in Camelot.

“They execute people like you, Merlin. Do you really want to leave Wyllt without a father? He's lost a mother already.”

“I need to make sure he's safe, Will. This is the only way I can do that,” Merlin replied, even if he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

“I hope you're not making a big mistake.”

Will was right, the magic that given him joy with Freya could also be his death. Merlin's magic had saved her once but not even he had been able to prevent her being taken from the world prematurely. They had barely had two years together. However in Ealdor his magic couldn't put food in his son's mouth.

Hunith encouraged Merlin to go. She said she would take care of Wyllt and see he knew of his father. Still, it was very reluctantly that Merlin kissed his son and mother goodbye and set off to Camelot with Gaius. They camped out that night and Merlin cried himself to sleep as the fire died down.

In Camelot Merlin found his destiny. He found a dragon who told him of the great things he and Arthur would accomplish. Of course Arthur was a prat so Merlin's destiny wasn't easy. Despite that he still saved Arthur's life and, though he grumbled about his new position, for the first time since leaving Ealdor Merlin was able to sleep at night. He dreamt of running through a meadow with Wyllt in his arms, happy and carefree.

He hadn't been working for Arthur long when the prince asked why Merlin hadn't bought new clothes, given the state of his current attire. He had been concerned Merlin wasn't being paid.

“I send all my money to Ealdor,” Merlin replied. “To my mother so she can take care of herself and Wyllt.”

“Who is Wyllt?” Arthur asked.

“My son.”

If he had known the knowledge would make Arthur speechless for several minutes Merlin would have told him before.

Arthur didn't pry about Wyllt or ask any questions. Merlin told him how young Wyllt was and that his mother was dead. Much as he wished to tell Arthur the whole truth, like his magic, he found he couldn't.

Merlin sent letters back home as often as he could, although it was hard to find messengers to take them into Cendred's kingdom. In them he told Wyllt about Camelot and about Arthur. He told Wyllt what a prat Arthur was but what a good man he was too. He didn't mention anything to do with magic out of fear of who might intercept the letters.

In return Hunith wrote back. She talked about how big Wyllt was getting, how he was rolling around the floor of the house getting himself all grubby, and how he was beginning to make sounds that would soon be words. Every time he read the letters, and he reread them frequently, Merlin wished that he had Wyllt with him. It hurt to be apart from his family. He just wanted to see them again.

He did see them again of course, although the circumstances were painful. His mother appeared in Camelot, her face bruised. She carried Wyllt with her and had travelled from Ealdor on foot. Merlin found her near the gate as he collected water for Gaius. He hugged his mother and held his son for the first time in many months.

When Gaius saw Hunith and Wyllt his comment was that Wyllt looked like his father. He had the same bright blue eyes and unruly dark hair, even if he had less than Merlin. He also had Merlin's ears but Gaius was too polite to mention that. Merlin was surprised by how much his son had grown in the months he had been away from him.

Of course despite the joy in their reunion there was a serious reason why Hunith had come to Camelot. She needed help. Ealdor needed help.

A bandit, Kanen, had attacked the village, taking food they could not spare, and Hunith begged for help that Uther would not give. Merlin held his son tightly as Uther refused his mother's pleas. He saw Arthur looking at him oddly, with compassion. Not even Wyllt's cries could move the king.

“I'm going back to Ealdor,” Merlin said as he stood on the battlements with Arthur. He was holding Wyllt. Since Hunith and Wyllt's arrival Merlin had been unable to let his son go for any period of time. It had been too long.

“You''ll be coming back?” Arthur asked.

Merlin looked at the child in his arms. “He's my son,” was his reply.

“I'd do the same,” Arthur said. He reached out to touch Wyllt's cheek, hesitant at first until Merlin angled him toward him. It was just a light touch but Wyllt smiled.

Seeing Arthur so gentle with Wyllt Merlin realised how privileged he was to see the man behind the Prince. He would miss Arthur. As much as he had missed his family.

Within the day Merlin was packed and ready to go back to Ealdor. He had help packing from Gwen and Morgana, who promptly told him they were going to come with him.

“You'd do the same for us,” Gwen told him.

Merlin was grateful for Gwen and Morgana's support. They assured him they wanted to help Merlin's family as he had helped them. It was overwhelming to find friendships that strong. Merlin was sure Freya would have been glad of friends like these as they all travelled back to Ealdor.

They couldn't reach there in one day and made camp a few hours ride away from the village. Merlin fed Wyllt with milk they had brought with them along with some of the stew his mother cooked over the fire. Hunith gave him a bit of advice but otherwise left Merlin to it. He put Wyllt down to sleep in a basket, blankets tucked around him to insulate him from the chilly night air.

“I missed him,” Merlin said, as he and his mother sat by the fire.

“He missed you,” Hunith replied. “I'm proud of you. You're a good father.”

“I haven't been a father to him,” Merlin said, glancing at the basket where his son lay sleeping.

“You have,” Hunith told him, stroking his cheek. “You have. Without you we wouldn't have the money to buy food.”

“Kanan is taking your food.”

“And that isn't your fault,” Hunith said. “You've done enough, Merlin. You've taken care of us.”

Reflecting on his mother's words Merlin was glad that she at least felt he had done a good job supporting his family. Yet there was so much more he could do.

Merlin was surprised when Arthur arrived unannounced at their makeshift camp. They sat by the fire's now dying embers as Merlin told Arthur about threat they faced. They were interrupted by Wyllt waking up and crying, having kicked off one of his blankets in his sleep. Immediately Merlin went over and picked him up, hushing him.

“You need to rest, Merlin,” Arthur said.

“So do you.”

They sat together until Merlin had got Wyllt back to sleep.

For the first time in a long time Merlin dreamed of running through a meadow with Wyllt. Only this time they were joined by Arthur.

It was strange being back in Ealdor. Will was angrier than Merlin remembered, as if he had changed when Merlin left. Ealdor was a place that Merlin associated with sorrow yet with Arthur there, with his friends Morgana and Gwen there, it no longer felt so lonely.

Wyllt thrived on the attention. Morgana and Gwen both fussed over him. Only when the women weren't looking would Arthur playfully tickle Wyllt, or simply ruffle his hair. Only Hunith and Merlin ever saw him do it. To the rest of the village Arthur was the fearless Prince and that was all.

Merlin spent his time taking care of Wyllt, finding out all the little things about his son that he had missed. Like the fact he had Freya's smile, that he liked chewing spoons and that he seemed to get dirty even if Merlin kept him out of the mud.

“Back to play happy families?” Will asked, as Merlin played with Wyllt in the house Merlin had grown up in.

“Will, I'm here to help.”

“If you had stayed here, looking after your son, we wouldn't even have this problem,” Will said, shouting so loud he caused Wyllt to cry. “You could have stopped them already.”

“I can't,” Merlin said.

“Tell Wyllt why his father is a coward then.”

Merlin had no reply.

One thing he did know was that he had to fight for his son and fight for an Ealdor where children could grow up without the fear of starvation. That was why he used his magic in the end. Will seemed to realise that nothing would stop Merlin from protecting his son and fought gladly at Merlin's side.

It might also have been why Will chose to take the arrow in place of Arthur. As Will lay dying he made Merlin promise to tell Wyllt about him.

“Tell him how we used to...” Will hadn't the strength to finish.

“I will,” Merlin promised as he fought his tears.

When he left Will's home he saw sympathy in the faces of his friends. He took Wyllt from his mother and found solace in holding his son.

“Will was a good man,” Arthur said. “I'm sure Wyllt knows that.”

“He will,” Merlin replied.

It was Hunith's idea for him to take Wyllt back to Camelot. “He needs you,” she said. “He needs his father.”

Merlin couldn't argue, he wanted his son with him more than anything. As they rode back to Camelot Merlin felt much happier with the weight of Wyllt on his back. He felt as if he wasn't leaving his home, but returning.

Gaius welcomed Merlin home and welcomed Wyllt with open arms, joking how he was now a grandfather. He arranged for a cot to be placed in Merlin's room and saw to it that Merlin had all the things he needed for Wyllt. It was only much later Merlin found out Gaius had spent what little money he'd had saved up in order to buy everything.

Life at Camelot soon settled into a new routine. Although Wyllt began to sleep through the night Merlin was always up before dawn anyway. He went outside the castle walls to collect goat's milk from John, the local cobbler, who kept two goats and sold the milk for extra income.

It had taken Arthur awhile to understand this.

“Why don't you buy your own goat if you need so much milk? It would save you being late because you've had to go and get some,” he said, when Merlin had been late with breakfast for the third time that week.

“I don't think Gaius would like me to keep a goat in my room,” Merlin replied. “And they eat too much, I might wake up one morning and find they've eaten Wyllt.”

That joke seemed to put Arthur in a better mood and he only made remarks every other time Merlin was late.

It wasn't easy raising a son and for the first few weeks Merlin relied heavily on Gaius's guidance. It was an irony that didn't escape either of them as Gaius had never had children, but he did know something about childcare. When Merlin was tired from lack of sleep and Wyllt kept crying for reasons he couldn't work out Gaius was there to give him a break and help work out why Wyllt was crying. Most times he was right too.

With all his duties for Arthur and Gaius (Merlin felt he had to repay the latter for all his kindness, even for the strange remedies he gave Wyllt for his sore gums) Merlin needed someone to look after Wyllt whilst he was otherwise occupied. Fortunately there was no shortage of women willing to help. Over time Merlin found which ones were the most trustworthy and he was able to go about his work safe in the knowledge his son was being cared for. He often found his son in Morgana's chambers; she and Gwen did spoil him.

Despite the support Merlin did as much as he could for Wyllt, changing him and feeding him in between polishing Arthur's armour and washing his socks. It was tiring work but Merlin was determined to do it all. Wyllt was his responsibility.

His determination to be a hands on father sometimes meant he was late for his duties, which caused Arthur to look for him. One morning Arthur arrived in Gaius's quarters when Merlin was feeding his son, both of them having overslept. Unfortunately Wyllt seemed to have got more food on his father than Merlin had managed to get in his mouth.

“I see he learnt his eating habits from you then,” Arthur said.

“At least he'll have learnt to dress himself before you,” Merlin replied.

“I'll have you know as crown prince of Camelot I have many talents,” Arthur said, coming to sit down next to Merlin.

“I'm sure you do but I'm also sure you won't be able to feed Wyllt either.”

Arthur took it up as a challenge. A bowl of food on his clothes later he conceded defeat.

“You will have to wash my clothes, Merlin,” he said, solemnly flicking a piece of carrot from his tunic.

“Why? You wanted to try and feed Wyllt.”

“Like I said, Merlin, he's your son and he inherited his eating habits from you.”

The moments with Arthur and Wyllt together were some of the most precious Merlin had. Wyllt brought out Arthur's softer side and although Merlin didn't know how he was immensely grateful. Though he had pointed out to Arthur he could be a bad influence.

“I don't want my son growing up to a prat,” he said.

“An idiot it is then,” was Arthur's reply.

When Arthur killed the unicorn and the curse came upon Camelot Arthur urged Merlin to send Wyllt away, back to Ealdor. Merlin refused. His faith in Arthur to put things right meant he was perfectly willing to gamble his life and the life of his son.

“Merlin, it would be safer if you sent Wyllt home.”

“Camelot is our home,” Merlin replied.

For the next few days Wyllt often cried with hunger. Merlin gave his meagre rations to his son. Morgana and Gwen sneaked a few scraps from the kitchens. In the end it was Wyllt's cries that set Arthur on a path of steely resolve to make things right. It was Wyllt's cries that drove Merlin to seek a last chance for Arthur.

Sitting at the table Arthur's argument for drinking the potion was logical. “You have a son, Merlin,” he said.

“And you have a kingdom.” Merlin replied.

“Wyllt is part of it,” Arthur said, snatching the goblet.

He wasn't able to stop Arthur drinking the potion. As Arthur fell back onto the stones Merlin's heart ached like it had when he'd lost Freya. Once he found out Arthur was going to be all right Merlin was so relieved that he nearly kissed him. He hadn't wanted to kiss anyone since Freya. He was shocked that it felt so right to want to kiss Arthur.

That night when he was dressing Wyllt for bed Merlin voiced his concerns.

“I can't be in love with Arthur can I?”

Wyllt's only reply was to burp.

That at least took Merlin's mind off it, for a little while anyway. He kept having the the dream of himself, Wyllt and Arthur in the meadow.

After Arthur was struck by the Questing beast Merlin made a bargain with Nimueh. He had thought he was bargaining his life for Arthur's. It was only when Wyllt woke up the next morning with a terrible cough that the true price came to light. Merlin was horrified and swore to make his son better.

He knew what it meant of course, which was why he had to give Arthur a last goodbye and extract a promise.

“Arthur, if something happens to me I need to make sure you'll take care of Wyllt,” he said.

“Merlin?” Arthur was puzzled. “Are you sure? You keep telling me I'll turn him into a prat.”

Merlin smiled. “I'm sure he won't let that happen. He'll probably make a terrible servant.”

“Learnt from you then.”

“Yeah. I'm happy to be your servant. Until the day I die. Wyllt will feel the same. Just take care of him.”

“If anything happens to you,” Arthur said, in a tone that suggest nothing would.

“Yes. Please.”

“I will,” Arthur said. “I give you my word.”

Merlin knew it was a solemn vow. Taking his leave of Arthur he went back to his son's side. Wyllt's cough was even worse and he had a fever.

“I will make you better,” he promised. “And I know you're going to grow up to be a great man. Don't worry about me. The gods will look after me and one day we'll be together again,” he paused. “I need you to make sure that Arthur doesn't turn into a prat again, okay?”

Merlin wiped his eyes and gave his son a last kiss on the forehead before he left to go to Nimueh and bargain his life for his son's. Gaius, though, had got there first.

How he had called the lightning down Merlin didn't know. All he knew was he was full and grief and rage over the hurt caused to Arthur, to Gaius but most of all to Wyllt. His son meant everything to him, to have nearly lost him was unthinkable. Merlin swore he would never trust the dragon again.

When he returned to Camelot with Gaius Merlin panicked when Wyllt was nowhere to be found. He eventually tracked him down in Arthur's chambers. The Prince was still weak from his ordeal but he was where Merlin left him, by the fire, only this time he had Wyllt on his knee.

“Ah, Merlin, I was just telling Wyllt what a useless manservant you were to forget to leave extra food.”

“Arthur, why is Wyllt here?” Merlin asked.

Arthur smiled and ruffled Wyllt's unruly black hair. “We invalids have to stick together.”

Wyllt's fever and cough were gone almost immediately but Arthur's healing took longer. Merlin found himself spending more and more time in Arthur's chambers, with Wyllt. It felt natural and right for the three of them to be together. In Arthur's rooms the rest of the world didn't matter.

It was perhaps inevitable it would be through Wyllt that Merlin's magic was revealed. At around a year old (Merlin wasn't entirely sure how old Wyllt was, but then he didn't know how old he himself was) Wyllt was now able to totter along on two feet, using the furniture for support. Before long he would be walking on his own. Merlin found it was quite hard to keep an eye on him at times.

Merlin and Arthur were at the table; Merlin polishing Arthur's helmet whilst Arthur made remarks about the shine of it. Wyllt was near the bed, teetering along as he used the edge of the bed for support. Neither Merlin nor Arthur noticed how close Arthur's sword was on the bed until was nearly too late.

Wyllt pulled on the bedspread, dislodging the sword and sending it flying toward him. Merlin looked up just in time and without even thinking used magic to slow things down. His eyes glowing gold he pushed Wyllt in one direction and the sword the other. Before he had even righted time he went over and grabbed Wyllt, pulling him away from the deadly object which clattered onto the stone floor.

Arthur sat and said nothing.

“Arthur...” Merlin couldn't find the words.

“Magic,” Arthur whispered, not even daring to speak it out loud.

Merlin nodded dumbly.

As if sensing the tension in the room Wyllt began to cry. The noise only added to Merlin's fear. Merlin held him and buried his nose in his son's hair, knowing this could be the last time they would ever see each other should Arthur call the guards.

Arthur did not call the guards. He came over and put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. No words were spoken but Merlin knew then that things would be all right between them. Wyllt reached up and touched Arthur's cheek, eliciting a barely perceptible smile. Merlin's fears changed to hope in that moment.

It took time for them to adjust to this new state of things. Gradually though the old banter crept back and the old friendship relaxed. Arthur healed well and there was less time to spend with him and Wyllt in Arthur's chambers, which Merlin regretted. It seemed Arthur regretted it too as he started finding excuses for Merlin and Wyllt to be in his chambers. In the end Merlin and Wyllt alone were excuse enough.

One night Wyllt fell asleep on Merlin's lap. Arthur encouraged Merlin to put his son in Arthur's bed. He looked so small dwarfed by the large pillows and heavy sheets. Still, he slept on soundly. Arthur encouraged Merlin back to where they had been sitting near the fire. Merlin found the feelings he had hidden since the Labyrinth of Gedref were harder to cope with once he had Arthur near him.

Arthur seemed different too somehow, as if the last few weeks had been building to something. Perhaps that was why Merlin wasn't surprised when Arthur kissed him. He kissed back with equal fervour, and things developed. With the bed occupied they had to make do with a few blankets by the fire. Yet Merlin wouldn't have changed it. When Wyllt woke up Arthur brought him to sit with them, snuggled in between the two of them he seemed happy.

A few days later the three of them were together eating some bread, meat and cheese that had been for Arthur's breakfast but for some reason had become a communal meal. Suddenly a piece of cheese flew off Arthur's plate and into Wyllt's hand. Merlin looked down at his son who seemed very pleased with himself.

“You do realise your son is magic?” Arthur asked.

“Yes...” Merlin had seen it with his own eyes, but he had never considered Wyllt would have the same magic as he did.

“We'll have to be careful,” Arthur said, chewing on some bread. “We'll need to keep it from the servants.”

Merlin nodded. “You're not angry?”

“Merlin, there's no reason to be angry at someone because they were born with magic,” Arthur said. “And especially not when they're family.”

It was then Merlin understood the warm feeling he had been having. His family was Arthur's family. He, Wyllt and Arthur were family. As Wyllt tried to magic another piece of cheese from Arthur's plate, Arthur grabbing it just in time, Merlin realised this was all he would ever need.

Somewhere in the distance he was sure he could hear Freya laughing and he knew she would have approved.


End file.
